


smashed glass glittering everywhere like stars

by enchantressofyggdrasil



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Canon Compliant, I guess????, M/M, Pining, hints of shadowgast, jealous fjord, mild spoilers for episode 79
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 03:09:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21129782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enchantressofyggdrasil/pseuds/enchantressofyggdrasil
Summary: "It was easy for Fjord to convince himself that the charged banter between Essek and Caleb was them playing each other, or, at the very least, Caleb playing Essek in order to advance his study of magic. The forearm squeeze in the Lotusden was harder to dismiss, however."Caleb and Essek's flirting is very clear, and Fjord is a grump about it.





	smashed glass glittering everywhere like stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [twoheadedcalf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoheadedcalf/gifts).

> I wrote my first fic!!! please be gentle
> 
> This is for nev who helped edit :3 prompted by one of their twitter posts <3
> 
> Title is from a Richard Siken poem
> 
> You can find me on twitter @michealachaos

It was easy for Fjord to convince himself that the charged banter between Essek and Caleb was them playing each other, or, at the very least, Caleb playing Essek in order to advance his study of magic. The forearm squeeze in the Lotusden was harder to dismiss, however.

It wasn’t entirely unwarranted, the squeeze; they were annoying the shit out of Essek, it was true. A comforting gesture like that could’ve been simply an attempt to smooth things over. But there was something about the way Caleb’s hand lingered just a little too long on the sleeve of Essek’s robe, and how Caleb did it a second time. 

Fjord had been trying for some time to frame the wizards’ interactions as nothing more than casual, maybe even manipulative, in order to calm the wave of feeling he felt in his chest whenever Caleb was around. That, whatever they were doing, there were ulterior motives involved, beyond simply enjoying the other’s company.

Unfortunately, this strategy of pretending was not panning out.

Even in the times since returning from the Lotusden, Caleb and Essek’s ‘magic lessons’ had a different energy. Often they would be in the study, Fjord nearby for some reason or other, and he could hear soft laughter from the two of them. It always sounded so genuine, and Fjord could just about see their hands touching. Other times Fjord would walk by the door to the study and see the two of them sitting so close that their knees were brushing. Sometimes Fjord would be out, and wouldn’t have even known that Essek stopped by for lessons, if it weren’t for the half-smile that Caleb kept for the rest of the day.

It was pretty much obvious by now, only it took a while before Fjord was finally ready to admit it to himself. He could’ve said earlier that Essek had genuine feelings for Caleb, but now his brain was biting out the reverse thought.

Caleb had feelings for Essek.

Of course he would. Essek was clearly handsome, with cheekbones and a jawline you could cut yourself on. Even Fjord was willing to admit that, despite the bubbling resentment that clawed at his throat every time Essek’s gaze focused solely on Caleb even when speaking with all of the Mighty Nein. Essek was clever and extremely powerful, and, if Caleb’s previous relationship with Astrid was any indication, he was exactly Caleb’s type.

No one else in the group seemed to say anything about their apparent flirting, so Fjord was left to stew in his own bitterness. Jester would occassionally make eyes at them as they moved to the study to work, but surprisingly she kept silent. 

Fjord decided that he could at least scope out their lessons more closely, see if he was just being paranoid by filling in the gaps of things he couldn’t see, and since the study never seemed to be off-limits during their lesson time, he could just busy himself with a book and keep one eye on the two of them.

During one of the wizards’ lessons, he took a quill and a journal that had been unwritten in to the open door of the study. Even before stepping in Caleb spotted him.

“Hallo, Fjord,” he greeted warmly, his hand still in place to mark down another glyph. Fjord couldn’t help but love the way Caleb said his name; soft, and like the vowel was in the front of his mouth instead of the back. Caleb’s coat was off, his sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, and his hair was loose from its tie. Fjord’s mouth went dry. “Did you need something?”

“Er.” Fjord realised he hadn’t even thought up an excuse yet. He felt his neck grow hot under the unblinking gaze of Essek. “C-Caduceus suggested I look up some things,” he stammered, “figured I’d take some notes. You know, god stuff,” he finished, rather pathetically. 

Luckily, neither Essek nor Caleb seemed unnerved by his vague response or gods-awful use of ‘stuff’ and ‘things’. Caleb held up a small inkwell in the corner of his desk. “I have basic ink if you need it.”

“I’m alright, thanks.” Fjord quickly shuffled to the opposite corner of the study where they couldn’t tell he wasn’t doing anything in particular with the books and where he could easily see them without being obvious. Their knees were touching. A curl of nausea rose in Fjord’s gut. Did they have to be so touchy?

The air tingled with residual magic, apparent that they’d already been practicing a bit. Fjord hoped they weren’t almost done, but it seemed they had just started on a new spell, and Caleb glanced between his spell book and Essek’s to make every glyph mark exact. 

Caleb and Essek began to talk back and forth, and although Fjord had no trouble hearing them, a lot of what they said was arcane gibberish to him. The arcane wasn’t unfamiliar to him, but he certainly learned through different means than the two of them, and he felt a sharp voice in the back of his head telling him that that was one thing for sure Essek had that Fjord didn’t: magical competence. 

As this talk went on, Fjord thought maybe their lessons had less of the tension that was present when they talked as a group, until Caleb started practicing hand-motions for whatever spell it was he was copying. Fjord got a little distracted watching Caleb’s hands move in such a purposeful way (he always got a little distracted watching Caleb cast spells), but he snapped to attention when Essek gave a quiet laugh. 

“Almost, but not quite.” Fjord could hear the smile in his voice. “Like this.” And with seemingly no trepidation, Essek covered Caleb’s hands with his own, shaping them to the correct somatics with deliberate but gentle movements.

With a sharp taste in his throat, Fjord felt his quill tip crush against the paper of the journal he was mindlessly scribbling in. He hadn’t realised he was pressing so hard. 

“The fingers of this hand should be more open,” Essek continued, his voice suddenly low.

“Oh.” Caleb’s voice was quieter, too. “Ja.”

Fjord’s ears grew hot. It wasn’t just out of anger at Essek, however, as a half-smile creeped onto Caleb’s face, deepening the dimple in his cheek, and twelve separate emotions tugged Fjord’s brain in different directions. 

He watched Essek dance his fingers across Caleb’s in a way that could only be suggestive, and eventually Essek brushed a thumb against the scar on Caleb’s palm, the scar that mirrored Fjord’s own. It might’ve been by accident but it still felt … invasive somehow to Fjord. That was a mark of something for just Caleb and Fjord. Essek wasn’t a part of that. Yes, they were Caleb’s hands, and Caleb could do whatever he wanted with them, but Fjord really wished Essek wouldn’t touch that scar.

They continued like that for a few more minutes, Essek guiding Caleb’s hands and Caleb making no attempts to pull away. Just a couple more inches and their heads would be touching, and Fjord, although beyond frustrated at this sight, was glad he was here, knowing they’d be all over each other if he wasn’t in the room.

Fjord continued pretending to take notes for the rest of their lesson, which dragged on agonizingly like a hook under his skin. At one point he thought it might be over, as Caleb wasn’t bent over his book anymore or practicing somatics, but Caleb and Essek both faced each other now, their knees practically interlocking as they continued to talk. He wasn’t willing to leave them alone, but also couldn’t bear to watch the way Essek stared at Caleb’s mouth whenever he spoke. Fjord wondered if he was that obvious when he did the same.

Finally the spellbooks were closed, and Fjord tried to make his sigh of relief as subtle as possible. 

“You know, I remember you asking me about the Marble Tomes,” Essek recalled. His fingers barely traced the edge of Caleb’s chair. “And although there are certain, ah, security measures that prevent you from getting full reign of the place, I have my own collection of books you might like.” He paused. “I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to peruse my personal library.”

Fjord snorted to himself. If that was a euphemism, it was a bad one.

“That would be very kind of you,” Caleb remarked. “When I have the time, I think I’ll take you up on that offer.” If there was any innuendo in Essek’s statement, Caleb certainly didn’t seem to catch it.

“Until next time, then.” Essek bowed his head in farewell with just the barest hint of smugness on his face. He raised an eyebrow at Fjord, who had momentarily forgotten his attempt at subtlety and was staring directly at the two of them, and glided out of the room without another word.

Nausea finally subsiding, Fjord hurriedly gathered his things together as though he had just finished up as well (leaving behind the crushed remains of the quill), and made his way over to Caleb.

“Got everything you needed to?” Fjord asked, gesturing at Caleb’s closed spellbook.

“Everything Essek would offer at one time, yes,” Caleb replied. He tucked a loose strand of auburn back behind his ear and Fjord forced himself to not follow the movement with his eyes. “What about you? Did you get your notes?”

“My what?”

“Your notes,” Caleb repeated, gesturing to the journal Fjord was holding. “You know, the ‘god stuff’?”

“Oh! Oh, right, yeah, I got some notes. Not much, but … yeah.” Fjord swallowed hard.

Caleb huffed out a laugh and Fjord’s chest tightened.

“You alright?” Fjord blurted out. “You’re a little pink under your freckles.” That was a lie. Caleb did tend to run a bit red in the cheeks but it was no more than normal right then. Fjord selfishly just wanted to get a rise out of him, wanting to see if Essek’s flirting had really meant something.

Caleb did turn pink at that. “I—What do you mean?” His hand reached up to touch his cheek and his smile faltered.

“N-nothing, just thought you might be feeling a bit warm is all.” Fjord immediately regretted saying anything, but did not ignore how good Caleb looked when he was flushed in the face.

Caleb’s smile returned, smaller but no less genuine, and shrugged. “Magic is a lot of work. Especially this particular school, it’s … harder to grasp.”

“Well, I can’t imagine anyone better suited to the task,” Fjord assured him, trying to say it in a way that didn’t sound too obviously affectionate.

“I, uh, I disagree,” Caleb responded, but the flush was deeper this time and his smile wider, “but thank you anyway. That’s kind of you to say.”

There was a moment of silence between the two of them before Caleb excused himself and left the study, and Fjord stood there alone, wondering exactly what the fuck he was doing.

He was worried about Caleb, and not because he thought Essek was a bad guy or would turn on them in any way. It would make it easier to hate Essek if so, but Fjord legitimately didn’t think that was the case. He just felt the closer Caleb got to Essek, the easier it would be for him to be hurt if something did happen. Fjord didn’t truly expect anything bad, but his jealousy (he cursed himself at that realisation) wanted Caleb to distrust Essek and keep him at arm’s length. And Fjord felt worse and worse every time he thought about Essek because he couldn’t isolate him from Caleb. All he could imagine, playing over and over in his head on a sickening loop, was the two of them hand in hand, or flirting with magic while their arms were around each other, or kissing against a wall, and it made it so much harder to tolerate the Shadowhand’s mere presence, even if he was doing something helpful for the group. If Essek wasn’t so godsdamn good-looking, Caleb might’ve just learned a few spells from him and that would be it. None of this heart-wrenching dance the two of them seemed to be doing.

Fjord was starting to get restless.  
________________________________________________________________________________

It was another few days before Fjord figured he would get Caleb alone somehow and discuss his concerns about Essek as casually as possible. Not say anything about his own feelings, of course not, but to at least to put some doubt in Caleb’s mind. Fjord didn’t want to be shitty and blatantly tear the two wizards apart, especially if Caleb was happy with his clearly favourable relationship with Essek, but Fjord’s chest was aching, and he could at least suggest Caleb be more careful than he was. 

He approached Caleb over breakfast, dropping down in the seat opposite him with a little too much energy for that early in the morning.

“Morning, sunshine,” Fjord said cheerfully.

Caleb looked up at him from his half-eaten plate of eggs. One side of his face was pink where he’d slept on it, his eyes were still bright from sleepiness, and his hair was mussed ever so slightly. Just a hint of his beard could be seen growing back in. When he spoke, his voice and accent was thick and rough with the morning, and Fjord felt his breath catch in his throat, wondering what it would be like to kiss the sleep from his face. 

“Guten morgen, Fjord,” Caleb mumbled with less energy but without a sense of grumpiness. “You’re certainly alert.”

It took a few seconds before Fjord was able to compose himself enough to speak coherently after seeing Caleb like that. “Slept good,” was all he could get out at first. He cleared his throat before pressing on, “So I wanted to ask, since we have a little time on our hands until our next … obligation, and since we haven’t had much time to talk recently, if you wanted to maybe … I dunno, go out drinking or something?” 

Caleb yawned widely and blinked the bleariness from his eyes. Fjord thought maybe he hadn’t heard the question before he responded, “That sounds really nice, Fjord.” His voice, heavy with his morning accent, pronounced Fjord’s name like he used to when they first met, with two syllables, like Fee-yord. Fjord couldn’t hide how his smile widened.

“Great! When were you thinking?” The words tumbled out of his mouth a bit slurred together. Fjord may have been excited, but it was still quite early in the morning, and his excitement was the only thing masking his own sleepiness. 

“Did you want to do it tonight?” Caleb suggested.

“Tonight?” Fjord echoed. He almost had offered to do it tonight himself, but had decided against it at the risk of sounding too eager. “Yeah, of course!” He jumped to his feet, insecurity briefly forgotton. “I-I mean, we could go to an actual pub, you know, maybe not a pub crawl, but definitely that sort of atmosphere.”

“What about that one we had stayed in initially?” Caleb said. “The Dim’s Inn?”

That’s the inn that the two of us had roomed together for the first time … “Sounds perfect. Don’t eat dinner; we’ll eat there.” Fjord was already buzzing with a new energy, and started to back out of the dining area. “And I’m buying!”

Caleb started to say something else, muffled by a new yawn, but Fjord just called, “Sounds perfect!” and was already out the door.

Now, Fjord knew this wasn’t a date. Despite what he might have wanted, he definitely didn’t make this out to be a date; it was just a time when they could finally talk alone, and Fjord could bring up Essek without the whole group debating whether he was good or not. This wasn’t about Essek and the group; this was about Essek and Caleb and Fjord’s concern, and a little bit of Fjord’s jealousy. It was not a date.

But Fjord could not help feeling like he should look his best to a certain extent. Not formal, of course, but a bath, maybe? If Essek could look spotless and decadent for one of their stupid fucking magic lessons, Fjord could at least look nice over drinks. He knew Jester had some scented oils but they all smelled too flowery. Maybe Nott could whip up something similar last minute? But no, if she even agreed at all she would ask too many questions that Fjord couldn’t think of any good excuses to, and there was no way he would explain to her that it was so he could smell nice when he and Caleb went out for drinks. 

So he bathed. And he at least wouldn’t wear his armour. The Dim’s Inn wasn’t too far from the house, and when Fjord figured it was getting close to dinner time, he headed over there early, deciding he’d meet Caleb shortly. He hadn’t seen Caleb yet that evening, but the whole group had been pretty scattered all day, running errands and the like (Caduceus had even been meditating by the tree for a full three hours), and he wasn’t worried. 

The Dim’s Inn was fairly lively at the time Fjord arrived. Most of the tables were occupied by patrons either gulping down their first round or digging into dinner. A drow and a gnoll danced in the corner to a three-person band playing a flute and a couple stringed instruments Fjord didn’t recognise. The air was strong with old beer and woodsmoke from the fireplace on the far wall. It was louder than it’d been their first time there, and though Fjord found it to be nice, he hoped Caleb wouldn’t mind the din.

“What can I get you?” The voice was heavy with a Xhorhassian accent, and Fjord turned to see the drow bartender, a large ceramic jug in one hand and a damp rag in the other, standing at the end of the bar closest to Fjord.

“Oh, er …” Fjord scoped the interior quickly for an empty place he could sit with Caleb. “I’m actually, er, supposed to meet someone here, so nothing yet. But … once he comes in, maybe a round of firewhiskey?”

“What’s he look like?” the bartender grumbled.

“Oh, you can’t miss him,” Fjord chuckled. “He’s human.”

The bartender raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond with anything other than an affirming nod.

Fjord slid into the only empty corner booth to wait, only realising how often he was checking his reflection in the window when a grizzled drow woman at the adjacent booth barked at him that his hair looked fine, boy.

After an hour passed of Fjord sitting alone at the booth, he was starting to regret arriving so early. He should’ve found Caleb and walked here with him. Fjord thought that maybe being at the bar first, getting an empty table ahead of time with drinks at the ready would be somehow … impressive? He didn’t know, but he just couldn’t get over Caleb’s constant insistence that Essek was so impressive, and Fjord’s own attempts to live up to that ended up mediocre at best.

Another hour passed, and Caleb still hadn’t arrived, and Fjord was starting to worry. Most of the other patrons had already filtered out of the inn or headed up to rooms, and any that had stayed were either deep in their cups or already slumped onto tables. Fjord might not have had Caleb’s mind for time, but he’d guess it was late enough that most businesses would be closing up. He hadn’t felt strange about not seeing Caleb at the house for a few hours, given everyone had been scattered, but if he wasn’t showing up now … he wouldn’t have forgotten. It was possible he was just late, and Fjord decided maybe waiting just a little bit longer.

The bartender slinked up next to his table without warning and poured a tankard of strong-smelling alcohol in front of him.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t ask for—”

“This the first time you’ve been stood up?” the bartender asked, recorking the bottle.

“I-I really don’t think—that’s … that isn’t what’s happened,” Fjord stammered out. “You know, I … he’s probably just late, you know …” His voice trailed off. “You really haven’t seen a human come in here? Maybe he just couldn’t spot me.”

“I’d remember.” The bartender nodded at the tankard on the table. “On the house.” He trudged away into the room behind the bar and did not reemerge.

Fjord finished off the drink faster than was probably healthy. It was really powerful, tickled his nosehairs a bit, and immediately turned his thoughts muddy. Caleb hadn’t forgotten, for sure, Fjord knew his mind was far too sharp for a simple mistake like that to happen. He could be in trouble, but if he was at the point where the rest of the group thought him to be missing, surely someone would’ve come to inform Fjord. After all, he hadn’t made his evening trip to the Dim’s Inn by any means secret. 

No, if anything, and a cold pit formed in the bottom of his stomach no whiskey could warm, if anything Caleb just didn’t care. When Fjord had asked him this morning, he probably had caught Caleb at just the right time where he was tired enough to agree to anything. Of course he wouldn’t want to chat with Fjord alone over drinks. In fact, and the cold pit jumped to his throat with a jolt, he was probably spending the evening with Essek.

The two wizards were close enough now that Essek had no doubt let Caleb know where he lived. Caleb had most likely been over there before without Fjord realising. And of course Caleb wouldn’t have told Fjord if he had. Those nights where Fjord hadn’t seen Caleb at all before heading to bed … his head pounded painfully as he imagined Caleb sleeping soundly in Essek’s room, the two wizards twisted beneath the sheets.

He felt a spike of anger that disgusted him. Fjord hated to be angry. Anger had always been something that was used as a preemptive label against him when he was younger. Everyone’s first impression of him was always an angry and vicious kid that would sooner start trouble than end it. He had spent years trying to reverse those assumptions. But right now, he couldn’t help the anger. It bubbled and boiled behind his eyes, fueled by something that he realised he hadn’t felt in ages.

He felt very alone.

Fjord knew that the alcohol was making him bold, but he was going to find his way to Essek’s home himself, and finally confront him about his intentions with Caleb. He wouldn’t fight him; he wasn’t stupid, but the image he conjured up of grabbing a fistful of that annoyingly perfect coif of white hair was tantalising, to say the least. He’d confront him only if Caleb didn’t happen to be there, and if he was … well, at least Fjord would know. 

Fjord wasn’t drunk but he was certainly buzzed, and it took a few attempts at talking to the Aurora Watch and a few uses of a disguise spell before he was able to be convincing enough through his haze to be informed of where the Shadowhand resided.

The buzz was wearing off during the walk through the Lucid Bastion toward the residential area of Den Thelyss, and Fjord slowly came to his senses, realising just how bad an idea this was. Unfortunately, Fjord had never been the kind of man to abandon things halfway through and … well, he was already here. Even bad ideas he would let run their course. And he didn’t feel like returning home yet with the mournful, alcohol-induced thoughts about Caleb not caring still circling his mind.

It was hard for Fjord to focus once he was outside of the home designated to him by the Watch as Essek’s. He imagined the smudged vingette of his vision was because of the lingering whiskey, but he wondered faintly if the house had some sort of enchantment on it. It was big, he thought, not nearly as big as the Xhorhaus but decent, and there was a wrought-iron fence and gate around the front. The gate was unlocked, so he stepped through with some reluctance. 

The house didn’t look dark, but Fjord hoped Essek wasn’t in, or was asleep, so Fjord could at least keep his pride by sticking to his stupid plan but not actually have to speak to Essek and figure out what the hell to say. He gave the front door three knocks, firm but not loud, so maybe it would get ignored.

Almost a full minute passed before Fjord thought that the knock had indeed been ignored and turned to leave, and then the door swung open, bathing his flank in soft light.

Essek stood there, or floated there, or whatever the fuck he did, in much more casual robes than Fjord had ever seen. Silvery grey and missing his usual mantle, but still just as long, so the hem of it just barely brushed the floor. A single, loose white curl lay against his forehead and his cheeks had deeper tinge of purple than usual. Annoyance flashed through Fjord’s head, disgusted with the fact that Essek could still look frustratingly handsome in what was essentially loungewear. 

He blinked at Fjord, once, twice. “How—” He cut himself off and simply closed his eyes for a long moment. He exhaled heavily out of his nose before looking back at Fjord with an air of polite indifference. “What can I do for you at this hour, Fjord?”

It wasn’t that late, was it? Fjord snapped his jaw shut when he noticed it had been hanging open in surprise. He really hoped he wouldn’t have had to face Essek now that his head was semi-clear. Fjord hadn’t even thought up a believable lie yet for why he might be there, other than interrogating him about his feelings for Caleb. He supposed he could blend a bit of truth and falsehood. 

“Caleb’s missing,” he blurted out. “We were supposed to meet up and … well, no one’s seen him for hours. Figured you might be the next likeliest to have seen him.” That last sentence felt like barbs against his tongue.

Essek narrowed his eyes, though more in confusion than suspicion. “I mean, he’s been here, with me.”

Oh.

“Right.” Fjord spat out the ‘t’ at the end. The heat of nausea creeped up his back. “Should’ve guessed.”

“Why don’t you come in?” Essek pushed the door opened further.

“No, I’d rather—” But Essek was already stepping aside to reveal more of the foyer, gesturing inside with one had while the other grasped the door knob. Fjord wasn’t sure he wanted to see how much Caleb was enjoying himself with Essek, but curiosity was gnawing at the back of his skull. “Thanks.”

Essek closed the door behind Fjord and began to lead him out of the foyer and into a hallway deeper into the house. The foyer was mostly empty besides a wide arching staircase that looked more elegant than Fjord would’ve expected. The walls were all painted a very pale grey, making the house seem bright even in the ever-twilight of the outside. Along the line of the corridor were a handful of arcane lights behind frosted glass, and where they stopped was a doorway which Essek turned into.

The next room was clearly a study, but much bigger and way less cluttered than what they had at the Xhorhaus. The far wall was completely covered with bookshelves, and those weren’t sparse with books either. The wallpaper was a dark blue-grey, pattered with geometric shapes. A large window on one wall provided a great view of the night sky, but something about the glass sparkled, making it seem as if there were more stars than usual. A neat desk was set beneath the window, but it looked like it hadn’t been used recently. In fact, the only clutter was a collection of open books, some stacked on top of each other, around a low table in the centre of the room next to a long-smouldering fireplace. On the table was also a bottle of wine and two half-drunk glasses and a bowl of weird Xhorhassian fruit Fjord couldn’t name. A few short, squashy seats surrounded the mess.

And there, sitting with a book in his lap and his legs curled underneath him, was Caleb. His face was flushed, from the wine, Fjord guessed. The few buttons on his shirt were open to reveal a hint of red chest hair and collarbones and his hair looked brighter than ever against the faint flicker of firelight, and when he looked up, catching the movement of Essek and Fjord entering, Fjord could see the flame reflected in his blue eyes. 

“Ess—” Caleb broke off. “Fjord?” His eyebrows pinched together in concern. “What are you doing here? Is everything alright?”

Fjord didn’t want to look too closely at Caleb’s face, fearing he’d see marks where wine-drunk lips had kissed him, or lines where drow fingers had trailed. Fjord could feel Essek’s stare burning against the back of his neck. “We … we were meant to meet up earlier,” he mumbled, “and when you didn’t show … I-I dunno, and no one else had seen you either. I was … worried something had happened.” He did not look Caleb in the eye.

Caleb’s eyebrows pinched further. “You mean meeting up for drinks?”

“I—well, yeah.”

“I thought you heard me; that was to be tomorrow night.”

The burning against Fjord’s neck spread to his face. “T-tomorrow? You said tonight I thought.” 

“I suggested that at first, but then said we should move it back one day. I remembered I had plans tonight.” He waved a hand at Essek. Fjord still wasn’t looking Caleb in the eye, but he just imagine the pitying look he was getting. “I’m sorry. I figured you’d heard me. You said, ‘sounds perfect’.”

Fjord could feel every inch of exposed skin burning hot with embarrassment. Of course he’d end up a fucking fool. His impulsiveness would always end up his shame, wouldn’t it. He even remembered saying that, so he knew Caleb wasn’t just trying to cover his absence. 

Fjord was trying to think of anything he could say in response without stuttering when Essek spoke. “I imagine you didn’t let anyone else know you were coming here,” he directed at Caleb, a playfully scolding look on his face.

Caleb huffed out a sheepish laugh. “I … will admit it did not cross my mind.” He took a deep drink from his glass. “I am sorry, Fjord. I feel like I should’ve been clearer. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“N-No! Don’t apologise!” Fjord knew he wasn’t blushing anymore, at least; his embarrassment had turned to a hot coal in his chest. “I should’ve listened better. I didn’t mean to barge in and …” He looked at Essek, who was eyeing him with the corner of his mouth twitched up in a knowing smile. He looked away quickly.

“You’re alright, Fjord,” Caleb reassured. “In fact, I was probably going to be finishing up soon anyway. Let me get my things together and you can walk me home.”

“I—Caleb, no, I didn’t come here to rush you—!”

“Please? I’d rather not walk home by myself this late in the evening.”

“I’ll walk you home if he won’t,” Essek offered with the vaguest smirk.

“I’ve got him,” Fjord snapped, a little fiercer than he intended. Essek’s smirk deepened.

“Just give me a moment,” Caleb said, and began closing several of the open tomes.

Fjord turned abruptly and headed to the foyer to wait. He didn’t want to see the scene with the wine and the fruit and the books and the fire and pretend it was anything other than romantic. Fjord had never been logical by any means, but he could tell his imagination was getting the better of him when he kept seeing flashes of things that could’ve happened in that room. 

He knew the flushes Caleb and Essek had were from drinking wine, but what if it wasn’t? What if under Caleb’s collar there were dark bruises from Essek’s kisses? What if none of those books had been read and it was all for show? They could’ve been a tangle of limbs in front of the fire at one point and there would be no way for Fjord to have known. Even if none of that took place, Fjord couldn’t help but feel a pang of bitterness that Caleb was so willing to court this man that he had hardly just met, when Fjord had known Caleb for months longer. Sure, they hadn’t been clearly trying to court each other, but Fjord thought they had something different, something unique to them, right?

Caleb emerged into the foyer with Essek behind him not too long after Fjord. Caleb’s books were back in his holsters and his shirt was rebuttoned. 

“Thanks for waiting, Fjord,” Caleb said, giving Fjord a smile that made his breath catch. “And thank you for your time,” Caleb added to Essek. “Your library is impressive and—”

“Ah, wait one moment,” Essek interrupted. He turned back down the hall toward the study and returned shortly with Caleb’s dark purple coat draped over his arms.

Fjord suppressed an audible grumble, and Caleb let out a quiet laugh. “Thank you, Essek.” 

“Wouldn’t want you to be cold,” Essek hummed. “I would like to do this again sometime.”

“When I next get the chance. Definitely.”

Fjord half-expected them to kiss each other goodbye, but though the air was thick with tension, Essek simply opened the front door and guided Caleb and Fjord out. 

Neither of them said anything for a while, exiting the Lucid Bastion in complete silence, until Fjord just couldn’t help himself.

“Sorry I ruined your date.” He said the last word through gritted teeth.

Caleb choked. “My what?”

Fjord didn’t respond, afraid he might inject too much emotion in whatever he said.

Caleb was quiet for a moment. “That was not a date,” he finally asserted.

“Oh yeah?” Fjord mumbled. “Well, what would you call it then?”

“We … were … merely spending time together,” Caleb began cautiously, “and he was allowing me use of his library while I am unable to use the city’s.”

“Over a bottle of wine? Yeah, where I come from that’s called a date.”

Caleb stopped walking, and it was another few steps before Fjord noticed and stopped as well. “Why are you being so prickly all of a sudden?”

“I’m—I’m not prickly!”

“Yes, you are,” Caleb insisted. “I am sorry about not meeting you tonight. Did you wait long?”

“No,” Fjord lied. “But I was worried. And—and anyway that isn’t the point!” Although it was a very big portion of the point.

“Well, what is the point?” Caleb pressed. “It’s clear you’re upset about something. And I don’t think it’s fair to have me take the brunt of your grumpiness without telling me the reason.”

“…I’m sorry, I just …” This was definitely not the time nor place that Fjord would explain his jealousy over Essek. There were so many layers to this, but Fjord supposed that Caleb deserved at least one layer. “I don’t trust him.”

“Who? Essek?”

“Of course Essek.” 

“That’s it?”

“W—?” Fjord sputtered, baffled. “What do you mean, ‘that’s it’?”

“Well, I don’t really trust him either.”

Fjord was silent for a long moment. “Well, then … what are you—?”

“Let me be more clear: I think due to our circumstance we have to trust him to a certain extent.” Caleb steepled his fingers. “But, there is still so much we don’t know about him and his connections, and however pleasant he may be, I don’t want him to know any of our real secrets.”

“But if—it’s clear you are closer to him than the rest of us, and if you don’t trust him either, then you have to know you’re actively putting yourself in danger.”

“You think he’ll hurt me?”

Honestly, Fjord thought the very opposite. “I think you’re arm in arm with trouble.”

“Ah, well, I can handle that.” Caleb shrugged and smiled at Fjord, cooling the hot coal of embarrassment and jealousy that had been burning against his sternum. “How did you find his house anyway?”

“Not by doing anything legal,” Fjord muttered, and Caleb laughed.

“I should’ve known.”

Fjord made to walk down the street again before he felt Caleb’s hand on his arm like a weight. Fjord turned to see his his face looking apologetic.

“I still feel terrible about making you wait, Fjord,” he sighed. “I hope we can still have drinks tomorrow evening.”

“Caleb, really, stop apologising.” Fjord held up his hand. “It was my fault for misunderstanding.” He let out a half-hearted laugh. “You know, to be honest, I kinda just thought you’d forgotten about me.”

“I don’t forget anything, Fjord.” Caleb gave his arm a squeeze. “I certainly wouldn’t forget about you.” And with that he continued forward toward the Xhorhaus’s street, standing close enough to Fjord that their hands could’ve brushed.

Whatever anger Fjord felt toward Essek was muted now, like something feral had been covered in a warm blanket and given rest. No doubt Caleb would continue meeting with Essek like he had done tonight, that was clear, yet the stomach-turning jealousy was almost forgotton. It would return to normal, Fjord knew that, but right now he felt the warm press of Caleb’s shoulder against his own. The occasional brush of knuckles sent sparks of feeling up his arm from every point of contact, and Essek was the last thing on his mind.


End file.
